


Faeries Can Be Gay, Too

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Child Abuse, Dean is kind of a kicked puppy, Familial Abuse, Happy Ending, I'm just tagging a bunch of abuses, John beats Dean, John is a dick, John puts Dean down, M/M, Mental Abuse, Physical Abuse, they really should have a warning for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't have any friends because he doesn't know when to SHUT UP. He doesn't understand the concept of politeness; he thinks it's deceptive. Dean is the New Kid, with a messed up family and bruises that he can't quite hide. They get partnered up for an assignment, and realize this might be what they've been missing all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this prompt on tumblr and I was like OMG MUST WRITE even though I never write aus and I realized with the tags I was putting on this I probably wouldn't even read it myself. But yeah... (I also don't have a beta or anything and I just finished this but Imma post it anyway. (Also I apologize for the title)
> 
> Prompt: oh my god i want a high school au where cas is a total outcast not because he’s shy or anything like that but because he has NO filter and he’s pretty much made every girl in his class cry and pissed off all the popular people and omg like his twin sister anna tries telling him that he’s being rude and cas just doesn’t get it bc he thinks everything would be easier if everyone was just honest with each other  
> and then this guy dean transfers to his school and they’re paired up and cas is like really skeptical bc dean seems like he won’t do his part of the homework but dean just doesn’t have time bc his dad sucks and he has to take care of his little brother sam  
> so cas totally judges dean and thinks he’s just being lazy and they FIGHT A LOT and hate each other at first but then cas finds out about dean’s problems at home and they become friends and fall in love and anna is super protective of cas and gives dean a “break his heart, i break your face” speech and STUFF HAPPENS AND HAPPY ENDING!!!  
> (http://dnwinchester.tumblr.com/post/29659290823/oh-my-god-i-want-a-high-school-au-where-cas-is-a)

A new boy slouched in to Castiel’s third period English class, sliding (two minutes late) into the empty seat next to him. “Hey,” he said. “I’m Dean.”

“You’re late. Although this teacher doesn’t particularly care about attendance, or, frankly, about her students at all.”

Dean barked a laugh. “Okay, I’ll, uh, keep that in mind. What’s your name?”

“Castiel. And you’re going to stop talking to me soon, because I don’t have friends and if I did they certainly wouldn’t be slackers like you.” He turned back to his book, but Dean wasn’t done.

“Geez, Cas, you sure know how to make the new guy feel welcome.”

“I see no reason to lie to you because you are new—my sister, Anna, says I should tell people what they want to hear, but I think it’s absurd how people talk to each other. You won’t like me—I have empirical evidence to suggest this. So why should I pretend as though you will? You’re hardly desirable for work purposes—as you said, you’re new, and therefore behind, and I can see from the relative age and wear on your school bag that you’re hardly an overachiever. I’m sure you don’t even have you textbook yet. And for what other reason should I affect platitudes?” He picked up the book again. “And my name is Castiel.”

Dean turned away, glancing self-consciously at his backpack (which was five years old but hardly used), before looking up to the front of the class, where the teacher had finally gotten up to begin class.

“Today we begin our second unit in this class,” she began, “in which we will be studying a fantasy author of your choice. You and a partner” –here the whole class groaned— “will be selecting an author, reading three of their books, and then presenting both a paper and a creative project to show what you’ve learned to the class. I’m here if any of you need suggestions; the project is due in three weeks, so I’d get started.”

There was a burst of noise as everyone scrambled to find a partner, and before they knew it, Castiel and Dean were looking at each other in horror: they were the only two left unpartnered in the class.

Dean broke the stare first, chuckling grimly. “Welp, looks like you’re stuck with Mr. ‘Hardly Desirable’ after all.”

“I wish she would just let me work alone; she has to understand how unpleasant this type of group situation can be. I’m going to end up not only doing the brunt of the work but also having to check over everything that you do do to ensure the quality matches that of my work.”

“Woah there, Cas, who says your work is more ‘quality’ than mine? I won’t deny that homework isn’t exactly my thing, but I can bullshit a goddamn essay with the pros.”

The dark-haired boy sighed. “We’ll see. But for now we may as well begin the project. My favorite fantasy author is Holly Black—we can just read her ‘Tithe’ trilogy and be done with it.”

“What are those about? I’m more of a Darren Shan man myself, but I’m open.”

“Faeries.”

“Faeries? Dude, how gay can you get?”

“Just because you have sexual insecurities does not mean you have the right to mock me for my differences.” Castiel said icily

Dean blanched. “Oh, shit, sorry, I, um, didn’t realize…fuck, why am I even apologizing to you? You’ve been nothing but a dick to me. Fine, we’ll read your little gay faery books, but you know what? I _will_ do my work, and we’ll have the best goddamn project Ms. Turner’s ever seen.”

“We’ll see,” Castiel said again, before turning back to his book, trying to ignore the weird feeling in his chest. He felt Dean’s gaze burning a hole in the side of his head all period.

 

“I hate Ms. Turner.” Castiel was sprawled across his couch at home, talking with his twin sister, Anna. He was reading _Tithe_ again to refresh his memory and mentally cursing Dean.

“What’s she done now?” Anna was lying on the floor with an open math book in front of her, though she didn’t seem to be working.

“She’s making us do our unit project in pairs, and I got stuck with the new slacker guy.”

“Oh, that’s right, there was a new boy today. What’s his name? What does he look like? Is he hot?”

“His name is Dean, and he’s about my height with sort of sandy hair, and I suppose he is attractive, but he’s going to make me do the whole project myself and then get equal credit for it. And he hates me.”

“Wow, I think that’s a record, even for you. What did you _say_ to him?”

“Nothing but truths! I can’t understand why everyone gets so upset with me for merely stating the obvious.”

Anna rolled her eyes and sighed. “Castiel, we’ve been over this. Just because something is true doesn’t mean people need to have it shoved in their face. Sometimes it’s kinder to pretend.”

“And why should I care about being ‘kind’? It’s just a synonym for manipulative.”

“Because then you might, I don’t know, have friends? Or at least be able to choose your own partner for things like this. And don’t you want to have a boyfriend, at some point? How do you expect to ever get laid if you’re always a dick to everyone?”

“You care too much about sex. Just because I’m seventeen and still a virgin doesn’t mean there’s anything seriously missing from my life. And if it becomes important later I will deal with that as it develops.”

“God, how did _I_ end up with a brother on the asexuality scale?”

“And how did I end up with a slut for a sister?”

“Hey! I’m not a slut!”

“You just have a lot of sex?”

“Exactly!”

They both dissolved into laughter at the familiar argument, going back to their respective assignments.

 

The next day in English, Dean was late again. “I’m sorry, dude, but I didn’t get he books yet.

Castiel sighed heavily, and (having expected something of this nature) pulled all three out of his bag. “You may borrow mine. But I want them returned in the same condition I lend them in.”

“Thanks, man. I’m really sorry.”

Dean actually sounded sincere, which made Castiel pause

“It’s no trouble. Just get them read.”

 

Wednesday Dean wasn’t in class. Castiel hoped he would have the decency to return the books if he decided to drop out.

 

Thursday Dean showed up with a partially healed black eye, but a stack of pristine books to return to Castiel.

“Did you start the fight?” the dark-haired boy asked, accepting his property.

“Wasn’t a fight,” Dean mumbled. “Walked into a tree.”

“And a tree caused the thumb-shaped bruises on your throat.” Castiel was incredulous.

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Dean growled, adjusting his collar so the bruises were hidden and taking a deep breath. “Yes. It was a fucking tree.”

Castiel was frightened by the unexpected pain in Dean’s voice, and he wondered if maybe he should have attempted Anna’s techniques of manipulation. “Your eyes are very green when they water,” he blurted.

Dean slammed his chair back and stormed out of the room without another word.

 

“I don’t even know what I did this time! I was merely attempting to express my concern!”

Anna sighed heavily, “Maybe he didn’t take it that way. It sounded to me more like you were accusing him.”

“But he was obviously lying!”

“All the more reason to not push! People lie for a reason, Castiel, and it’s important to respect personal boundaries. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he shouldn’t have to.”

 

On Friday, Dean’s eye was a bit better, and the bruises on his neck were no longer quite so obvious. He was silent as he slid into his chair, and was clearly making an effort to not look at Castiel.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel announced. “Anna says I should respect your personal boundaries, but I have always found interpersonal relations difficult. I did not intend to upset you; I was merely concerned for your well-being.”

Dean flushed slightly and pulled a notebook and a pen from his bag. “Let’s just get to work, okay?”

 

They’d made some headway by the end of class (Castiel was surprised by the insight in Dean’s comments, and even more by the fact that it was obvious Dean had actually read all three novels), but they weren’t nearly far enough for Castiel to feel comfortable.

“Perhaps we should meet outside of class, say this weekend, to further our project.”

“Um, yeah, sure…I’ve got to take Sammy—my brother—to a science fair thing on Saturday, so maybe Sunday afternoon?”

Castiel nodded. “Where?”

“We can go to my house—Sammy doesn’t like being left alone, and Dad should be at work.”

He got Dean’s address as the bell rang.

 

Saturday found Castiel inexplicably nervous. He made Anna drive him past Dean’s house (just to reassure himself that they could find it). He paced his bedroom. He reread all three books ( _Ironside_ being his favorite by a hair; _Tithe_ was better written, but it didn’t have any gay kissing).

He eventually found himself sitting in Anna’s room watching her paint.

“There,” she said, putting the last brushstroke in a painting of a purple forest.

“It’s lovely, Anna.”

“Yup.” She turned to look at him. “You know, you’re acting like a girl before her first date with a huge crush.”

Castiel blushed. “It’s not a date. And I don’t have a crush on Dean. He’s just…frustrating. And confusing.”

Anna just gave him a look that said, ‘ _Mmhmm, and that’s why your voice just shot through two octaves, right?’_


	2. Week 2

Sunday morning Castiel woke up to his sister barging into his room and interrupting a nice dream he couldn’t quite remember. He thought it might have had something to do with Dean, but he wasn’t sure, and he _really_ didn’t want to dwell on what it would mean if it had.

“Up, Castiel! We’ve got to get you ready for your big day!”

“What? But I’m not supposed to be at Dean’s until one!”

“And it’s ten-thirty now! Up, and into the shower with you!”

“I fail to see the logic in needing to be ready two-and-a-half hours early to go work on a project.” He was baffled, but he started getting up.

“I was planning on taking you out for breakfast first, so we could discuss your game plan.”

“Game plan?”

“You know, the big plan for seducing Dean,” she said as he grabbed some clean clothes from his dresser. “And step one is definitely not wearing that.”

Castiel sighed. “I have no interest in seducing Dean. But I’m perfectly willing to go out to breakfast with you, and if you insist upon commenting upon my attire we can discuss that afterwards.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

Castiel fled to the bathroom and took his shower. It was going to be a long morning.

 

When Castiel got to Dean’s house at precisely one o’clock, it was after enduring Anna making him try on ten different outfits, and her spending all that time telling him all her tried and true methods for getting a boy into bed. Castiel had remained quiet throughout this process, knowing that while he wouldn’t use any of the advice (all of it employed deception), arguing would only encourage her. In all honesty, he wished his relationship with Dean was simple enough that he just wanted to seduce him. Dean was frustrating beyond belief, but at the same time, Castiel felt strangely protective of the taller boy. Maybe it had been hearing him deny his obvious bruises, but he stirred something inside of Castiel’s chest that the twin had never felt before.

He knocked on the door to the house, and was surprised to have it answered by a middle-school aged boy with floppy brown hair that fell in his eyes.

“Hello, I’m here to see Dean?” in his uncertainty it came out like a question.

The boy grinned at him and turned back into the house before bellowing “DEAN! CASTIEL’S HERE!”

There was the sound of running feet and then Dean appeared behind the boy. “Hi, Cas! Sorry I didn’t hear the door—I was in my room, studying, and apparently Sammy here _forgot_ he’s not supposed to answer the door to strangers.”

Sammy looked a little bashful. “Castiel’s not really a stranger,” he muttered.

“You’ve never met him before.”

“But you’ve been talking about him almost non-stop since you met!” Sam softened his voice in a mocking impression of a lovestruck Dean. “‘Cas has the bluest eyes!’ ‘Cas has the greatest hair, it’s all dark and tousled!’ ‘Cas is the perfect height to hug!’”

“Shut up, bitch, I have not!” Both he and Castiel had gone very pink.

“Have too, jerk!” Sam shouted as he ran up the stairs.

Dean smiled after his brother in fond exasperation (Castiel noted with interest that they didn’t seem to mean those nicknames in a derogatory manner at all—in fact it seemed quite the opposite) before turning back to Castiel and clearing his throat. “Um, sorry about him.”

“I don’t mind terribly much. He seems to care about you.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid. Bit of a nerd, but smarter than anything.” Dean smiled.

“You care about him, too.”

Dean looked down. “Yeah, well, he’s my brother, isn’t he?” He cleared his throat again. “Well, I guess you should come in. My room upstairs—we can work in there.”

Castiel walked into the house and was vaguely surprised at how neat and tidy everything was, though there was no hint of a motherly touch. “Is it just you and your brother?”

“Yeah, me and Sam and Dad. Mom died having Sammy.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, meaning it.

Dean chuckled humorlessly and started up the stairs. “That sure sounds like ‘affecting platitudes’ to me.”

Castiel was quiet as they walked the rest of the way to Dean’s room, but he spoke upon entering and looking at the bed. “You got the books?”

Dean shrugged and flopped in the bed next to them. “Yeah, the squirt made me take him to the library this morning, and I figured it’d be better to have two sets than just the one.”

Castiel nodded. “Indeed.”

Dean grinned and patted the bed beside him. “Sit down, why don’tcha? You don’t have to just stand there.”

“Thank you.” Castiel sat beside Dean, staring at his hands. He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to the fact that this was how one of Anna’s seduction techniques started. He gulped and attempted to distract himself. “So. Our project.”

“Yeah, I was thinking, for our creative project? You remember how in _Ironside_ Kaye makes Roiben that bracelet?”

Castiel nodded.

“I was thinking—my Uncle Bobby does a bit of metal working, he’s got wire and some tools that he said I could borrow whenever—I was thinking maybe we could make something like that, and then maybe we could also make replicas of the Seelie and Unseelie crowns? And maybe also Val’s sword, the one that Ravus makes her.”

“Not the Crystal Sword?”

“Well, if you can figure out how to make it, sure.”

“I suppose that would be difficult.”

“Yeah, I think that was kind of the point of it. And even if it weren’t, I don’t think it’d really fit with the theme…”

They continued talking,  thoroughly engrossed in planning (Dean had drawn sketches of each of the things he wanted to make, and Castiel was amazed at his artistic talent) until it started getting dark and Dean had to get up and turn on the light.

“Shit, is it five-thirty already?” he said, checking his phone.

“I had not realized so much time had passed,” Castiel said neutrally. He didn’t want to leave yet—he had not enjoyed this much time spent in anyone’s company other than Anna’s in his life.

“Me either. Look, I gotta make dinner for Sammy, you wanna stay?”

Castiel was taken aback (this was also on Anna’s list). “I would be honored.”

Dean grinned at him (Castiel felt a strange sensation in his chest at this). “C’mon, then. SAMMY!”

The smaller boy poked his head out of the room next door. “I’m right here, you don’t have to scream. What?”

“Come help me and Cas make dinner.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Bossypants.” Sam rolled his eyes. “So, _Cas_ is staying for dinner, then, is he?”

“Your brother invited me, but if I am intruding, I am certain other arrangements can be made.” Castiel wasn’t sure what to make of Dean’s brother.

“You’re not intruding!” Dean said quickly. “Sam’s just being a little bitch.”

“Hey! Jerk! But, yeah, Castiel, it’d be great to have the company for dinner. What’re we having?”

“Spaghetti.”

Sam grinned and ran ahead of them down the stairs. “Why aren’t you down here yet?”

Dean gave Castiel a shy smile and followed Sam down the stairs, Castiel trailing behind.

They (well, mostly Dean) made spaghetti and homemade sauce that turned out to be quite delicious.

“This is fantastic, Dean!” Castiel couldn’t contain his praise.

Dean flushed and looked down. “’S nothing.”

Sam kicked Dean under the table. “You’re a great cook, Dean.”

“Well, I guess you’d know, wouldn’t you? ‘Cause, you know, you’ve eaten so many other people’s food.”

“Well, you cook better than Uncle Bobby, at least.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

Castiel was a little confused by this interchange. “Your father does not cook for you?”

Both boys looked down quickly, and Dean tried to blow it off with an awkward chuckle. “Nah, Dad’s not around much, and when he is, he’s definitely not cooking.”

Castiel nodded, remembering what Anna had said about prying.  “My father is also often away, and my mother left when Anna and I were infants.”

“Shit, Cas, that sucks,” Dean said sympathetically.

“Oh, look, more things you two have in common…” Sam muttered quietly.

Dean glared at his brother, then looked helplessly back at Castiel. The blue-eyed boy tried to reassure him with his expression. Their gazes locked and stayed that way until Sam coughed loudly.

“If you guys are done mentally making out, maybe we should move on to dessert?”

Both high schoolers blushed, and Dean got up to go get the pie from the kitchen.

 

After dinner they went back up to Dean’s room, because Castiel still wasn’t ready to go home, although there wasn’t much more they could do on the project without more materials.

“I have enjoyed spending today with you.” Castiel spoke as they settled themselves back on Dean’s bed.

“Yeah, me too. I know I’ve been a little bit of a jerk to you, but—”

“You’ve been far kinder than I have. I’m sorry that we got off on the wrong foot,” Castiel interrupted. “But I really do like you.”

“Like, _like_ like, or, like, like?”

Castiel couldn’t help a laugh from escaping. “You do realize that that sentence was almost entirely composed of the word ‘like’, do you not?”

“Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.”

“What?”

“It’s a grammatically correct sentence composed entirely of the word ‘buffalo’. It means buffalo that buffalo from Buffalo buffalo (which means confuse) buffalo buffalo from Buffalo. But I was mostly just using it to make a point.”

“I see.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to?”

Castiel looked down at his hands, and panicked feeling constricting his chest. “I—don’t know?”

Dean started laughing. “Well, seeing as Sammy pretty much spilled the beans that I like you, how about we find out?”

“That would be amenable. Although how you propose to do that is beyond me.”

“How about we try this?” And then Dean was leaning towards him and Castiel couldn’t breathe as their lips met. His body reacted of its own volition, his hands coming up behind Dean’s head to pull him closer, their lips moving together frantically.

Dean pulled away far too quickly, and Castiel chased his lips as they parted from his. The green-eyed boy chuckled. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

Castiel made a small noise, and then their lips were crashing together again…

And then the door was crashing open, and a man was ripping Dean away from him and pinning him against the wall.

“What the fuck, boy?” the man was shouting. “No son of mine is a little faggot, I thought I taught you better than that!”

“Dad, I—it’s not what it looks like, we were just—”

Mr. Winchester’s fist slammed into Dean’s jaw. “Don’t you ‘we were just’ me, I know what I just saw, and it won’t be happening again, do you hear me? My son is not a faggot.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean muttered, clearly struggling to work his jaw.

“Speak clearly when you talk to me, boy!”

“Yes, sir,” Dean repeated, louder.

“I better not be seeing this boy again, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” There were tears running down Dean’s cheeks and Castiel couldn’t do anything but stare in horror. How could he have ever thought poorly of Dean? This boy who was intelligent and witty, and who took care of his brother despite having a father like this. The bruises made sense now.

Dean’s father finally dropped him. “Get him the fuck out of my house.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean opened the door and walked out of it, gesturing for Castiel to follow him. His father watched as Dean ushered the other boy out of the house without speaking another word. The door was shut in his face before Castiel could even manage a goodbye.

He called Anna to ask for a ride, and walked down to the corner to wait for her. He noticed Sam waving goodbye from his upstairs bedroom, and raised a hand in response, hoping he would get a chance to interact with the boy again. It seemed as though Dean protected his brother from the brunt of their father’s abuse, but maybe the boy was just perpetually optimistic.

Anna was grinning when she pulled up, but her expression faltered when she saw Castiel’s. “What happened?”

“Dean’s father is an abusive, homophobic monster.”

“…so? That doesn’t tell me much.”

Castiel sighed. “Everything was going well, we had dinner—Dean is a magnificent cook—and then, after dinner, we were talking, and he kissed me! And it was so—I’ve never felt anything like it before, it was perfect—and then his father bursts into the room, pins him to the wall, uses a variety of homophobic slurs and punches him in the face, then sends me away.”

“Well. Shit.”

“Indeed.”

“But he kissed you?”

“Yes, he definitely did.” Just then Castiel’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Dean. ‘ _I’m really sorry you had to see that shit.’_

‘ _Are you all right? I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you.’_

Anna was looking at him quizzically, so he told her, “It’s Dean.”

“Ah. Is he all right?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at his phone as it vibrated again. _‘I’m fine. It wasn’t your fault.’_ “He says he’s fine, but I think I’ll reserve judgment until I see how bad of a bruise he has on his jaw.” _‘I will be sorry whether you blame me or not.’_

_‘See you tomorrow, Cas.’_

_‘See you tomorrow.’_

Castiel was irrationally eager to get to school the next morning. He didn’t know what would happen with Dean, but now he at least had something to hope for. And Dean was so…enthusiastic and interesting and brilliant, but also so humble.  He was practically raising his brother, and had a father who was worse than none at all, and yet he was still so kind. Castiel had never wanted to see anyone so badly as he wanted to see Dean that Monday.

Dean was late to English, as usual, and Castiel noted that he was sporting an impressive bruise on his jaw, as well as a new one on his shoulder. He grinned when he saw Castiel, however. “Hey,” he said nonchalantly. 

“Hello, Dean. I am sorry about your father, but I enjoyed kissing you.”

Dean turned red. “God, I forgot how blunt you were for a second. You really call a spade a fucking shovel, don’t you?”

“I do not understand that expression, but I do say what I mean, yes.”

Dean grinned at him again. Castiel found himself wanting to do more things to inspire that grin. “I liked kissing you, too. And my dad—he was just drunk, he’s not always like that.”

“I would be correct in assuming it was he who caused your black eye, would I not?”

Dean averted his eyes.

“Exactly what percentage of the time is your father drunk?”

“He took Mom’s death pretty hard. He doesn’t wanna blame Sammy, but he kind of does, so he mostly just takes things out on me. Sometimes it’s better—that’s when he does stuff like drop everything and take us fishing, or he’ll take me out and show me how to fix up the Impala. Sometimes it’s worse—a couple years ago we went and stayed with my Uncle Bobby for a while. That’s actually kind of why we moved here—Uncle Bobby gave Dad a job at his salvage yard, trying to keep us close enough to keep an eye on.” Dean shut his mouth abruptly, looking shocked that he’d said so much. “But. Um. You don’t really need to hear all of that—”

“No, Dean, I want to hear it. I want to understand who you are.”

Dean shook his head slightly. “You know, Cas, I don’t get you sometimes.”

“I believe that feeling is mutual.” Cas smiled.

Dean sucked in a surprised breath (Cas didn’t smile very often), and then changed the subject. “So, I talked to Uncle Bobby, and he said we could have whatever stuff we needed. I was thinking we could head over there after school and get started? I got the midget to agree to take the bus home, so I can drive us, if you want.”

“That is amenable, although I warn you that I may not be of much assistance with any sort of metal working.”

“That’s totally fine, I can teach you, and besides, I kinda like having you around.” Dean smiled more shyly than Castiel had yet seen.

“I also enjoy your presence, Dean.”

They locked gazes, and it was several minutes before Dean managed to respond with a weak “Good.” And then several more before he finally turned away and suggested they get back to work on their paper.

 

They had different lunch periods, so it wasn’t until the end of the day that Castiel got to see Dean again. He was standing in the front hall, leaning casually against his locker, and for a moment his casual beauty took Castiel’s breath away.

“You are beautiful,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

Dean turned bright red. “That’s my line.”

“I don’t understand.”

Dean just shook his head. “Come on, I want to get a good start today.”

Castiel followed him to his car (something black and old, but in perfect condition—an Impala, he’d called it?) and slid into the passenger seat.

“You know,” Dean said, starting the car and pulling away. “I think I could get used to this.”

“To what are you referring?” Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

“You. Us, doing…whatever it is we’re doing.”

Castiel nodded. “I could get used to it as well.” He gave into the urge to touch Dean by putting his hand on the other boy’s knee.

Dean looked down in surprise, but didn’t say anything, and they spent the rest of the short drive in silence, both smiling slightly.

 

They spent that afternoon finding scrap to turn into their project, sneaking kisses every now and again. Bobby mostly left them alone, aside from a gruff hello when they arrived, and an admonition to not break anything they wouldn’t fix. Castiel thought it was the best day of his life.

 

Tuesday passed in a very similar fashion, but Wednesday morning Dean didn’t come into English class at all. Castiel sent him a worried text, and when he hadn’t heard back by the end of the day, decided to call. He was surprised when Sam answered in Dean’s stead.

“Um, hi, Castiel…”

“Sam? Where is Dean? What has happened?” If Castiel had worried before, he panicked now.

“Um. He, uh, fell down the stairs this morning, and has a broken leg and a concussion. He’s in the hospital. Uncle Bobby’s with him.”

“Sam. Your father pushed him down the stairs, did he not?” he waited, then took the silence on the other end of the line as confirmation. “Does Bobby know?”

Sam sighed. “Yes.”

“Are you still staying with your father?” he spoke sharply, worried for the younger boy’s safety.

“Nah, I’m at Uncle Bobby’s. I think he might keep us this time, he was furious when he heard.”

“What exactly happened?”

“I don’t know, I was eating breakfast. You can ask Dean when you go see him. He’s been asking for you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you, Sam.”

“Thank _you,_ Castiel. See you soon.”

Castiel hung up and ran to Anna’s locker. “Can you give me a ride to the hospital?” he asked when he saw her. “Dean’s been hurt.”

Anna paled at the look on his face, and ended the conversation she’d been having immediately. “Let’s go.”

 

He leapt out of the car when she pulled up, having promised to call her when he wanted a ride home, and ran to the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m here to see Dean Winchester?”

“Are you a relative?” the woman behind the desk asked.

“I’m his boyfriend,” Castiel said firmly, although it was the first time he’d used those words.

The woman nodded. “Room 236.”

“Thank you,” he said as he started running again.

Castiel burst into the room, panting. “Dean! I came as soon as I heard. How are you?” he rushed.

Bobby had stood up when Castiel entered the room, and now offered him his chair. “Catch your breath, boy, he’ll still be there.”

Castiel fell into the chair and scooted it closer to Dean’s bedside. “Dean?”

“Cas.  I told Sammy not to call you—did he call you?” Dean’s whole body was black and blue, and his leg was in a cast.

“No, I called _you_ but he answered the phone.” They locked eyes, and Castiel tried to channel his worry and fear into the look.

After a minute, Bobby cleared his throat loudly. “I’ll, uh, just go get something to eat,” he said, and then muttered, “Idjits.”

“What happened? Sam wouldn’t say, although I surmised that it had something to do with your father.”

Dean sighed, and then winced. “I’m fine,” he said in response to Castiel’s panicked look, then took another deep breath. “Dad came into my room this morning, drunk enough I could tell he hadn’t slept. He started out like he always does, calling me stupid, calling me a faggot, and I tried to get around him, ‘cause I had to get ready for school, and he pins me to the wall at the top and the stairs, and starts going on about how he saw me with you yesterday at Bobby’s, and how I’m a liar and irresponsible and don’t I care about him at all, and I tried to fight back, because the way he was talking about you…it was like you were some sort of low-class, I don’t even know, but I pushed him, and then the next thing I know I’m crashing down the stairs, and then there was an ambulance. Sam was scared out of his mind, and Bobby was mad as hell when he showed. And you know what’s funny? All I could think was, ‘Cas is gonna freak.’” He grinned, and even with his split lip and his bruises, Castiel thought he was beautiful.

“Oh, Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”

“I take it your uncle was unaware of those instances?”

“I didn’t want to worry him, and Dad doesn’t mean it. He just gets mad, you know?”

“That is no excuse. No one should treat you in this way.”

“Yeah, well, with any luck I’ll be going off to college in a couple years, and I can handle it ‘til then.”

“You are not living with that man ever again. You can live with Bobby, or Anna and I, but I will never let him hurt you like this again.” Castiel reached out and took Dean’s hand where it rested on the blankets.

The other boy smiled softly, his eyes shining. “Okay.”


	3. Week 3/Epilogue

Dean couldn’t come back to school until the next Monday, but Castiel visited him on Thursday in the hospital and on Friday at Bobby’s house. They spent most of the weekend together, too, with Dean showing Castiel how to work on their project from the wheelchair he despised but had been forced into accepting, after realizing there was no way he could walk on a broken leg and a dislocated knee.

On Monday, Castiel pushed him around from class to class, distracting him from his embarrassment with a hand on his shoulder and the occasional kiss.

Anna drove the two of them to Bobby’s after school and handed Castiel an overnight bag. “I’ll give you a ride in again tomorrow,” she said, kissing his cheek and then driving off with a wave.

“Looks like Anna thinks you’re staying over.” Dean grinned

“That does seem to be the implication. You don’t mind?”

“Nah, but I have to admit I’d sort of imagined being a little more mobile the first time I spent the night with you.” He smirked, but there was laughter in his eyes.

Castiel chuckled as he maneuvered Dean into the house. “There will be time for that when you are well, I’m sure.”

“Yeah? You know, Cas, I’ve never been in a relationship that’s lasted this long before.” He looked down, a slight flush visible on his cheeks.

“Well, you still have more experience than I. I’ve never had a relationship at all before.”

“Shit, really? I guess I probably should have guessed but—so you’ve never…?”

Castiel shook his head. “I never really even thought about it before you. Anna’s been teasing me about my asexuality since she had her first boyfriend and I expressed my disgust at the concept.”

“But you do want to, with me?”

He nodded. “I don’t understand it, but I want to be closer to you, even when we are touching, and I feel _wrong_ when I’m not with you, and my heart seems to leap inside my chest every time you call me ‘Cas’.”

“Shit, Cas, me too. I—I’ve never said this to anyone, and please dear God don’t tell Sammy—I think I might be in love with you.” Dean looked down like he expected to be slapped.

Castiel tilted the other boy’s face up and leaned down so Dean had to meet his eyes. “ I love you too, Dean Winchester, “ he said, and then kissed him.

 

They got an “A” on their English project, and (as Dean so eloquently put it) they got to “make a fucking badass sword and then _keep_ it”. What made Castiel happier, though, was that Dean kept the bracelet that had been made out of Castiel’s hair, and he wore it all the time, even when he slept.

During the weeks when Dean’s leg was in a cast, Castiel had practically moved into Bobby’s house, not that the man minded. Castiel even caught him grinning behind his beard at the two of them several times, and he’d come to recognize the endearment intended in the word “idjit”. He slept in Dean’s room, holding the injured boy in his slumber, and while Sam teased them about it, he could see that the younger boy was actually pleased for them. He and Dean had still not consummated their relationship (Dean said he wanted to be able to _move_ for Cas’s first time), but for now, Castiel was content to simply spend every free moment at his beloved’s side.

 

Dean got his cast off just in time for Christmas break, and Castiel was nervous as he headed over to meet him after his appointment. He was aware that Dean’s main impediment from furthering their physical relationship had been that cast, and now that it came time to take that step, he realized he had no idea what he was getting himself into. He would just have to hope that Dean had enough experience for the both of them.

Both boys were on edge all through dinner, and when they finally excused themselves to Dean’s room, Castiel was vaguely worried that he would vomit up all that he had eaten.

Dean sat down on the bed and looked up at his boyfriend. “Cas…we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“I want to,” Castiel said, and kissed him to prove his point.

Dean pulled back for a second to flash a grin. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve waited fucking long enough. Wanted you the moment I saw those gorgeous blue eyes.”

Their lips met again, and dean swept his tongue across Castiel’s lips, coaxing them open and probing his mouth. The dark-haired boy gasped and moved closer, tentatively  reaching his own tongue out to explore Dean’s mouth and fisting his hands in the green-eyed boy’s hair. He felt Dean’s chuckle as he was lifted up and around, so that Castiel was now seated more comfortably on Dean’s lap. “Dean,” he gasped. “So beautiful.”

“You’re better,” the fair-haired boy murmured into Cas’s neck, mouth searching for more flesh to stimulate. Castiel slid his hands up under Dean’s shirt, trying to get it off as Dean did the same to him. They had to break apart to get the t-shirt’s over their heads, and Castiel gasped when he saw Dean’s naked chest, flushed and bared just for him. He reached out with a suddenly tentative hand to stroke the perfectly defined muscle. Dean smirked and brought their lips back together, somehow forcing more enthusiasm into the kiss. Castiel could feel the other boy’s erection straining his jeans, and was almost surprised by his own. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, and he didn’t think he’d ever feel like this about anyone but Dean. He kissed his way down Dean’s neck to mouth at one nipple, and was pleased by the moan that brought from the other boy.

“God, Cas, love you.”

Castiel murmured his assent into the other boy’s chest, slowly working his lips downward and his hands moved to fumble with Dean’s jeans, not really sure of what he was doing, only knowing that he _wanted_ it, wanted it like he’d never wanted anything before. He finally unfastened Dean’s pants, shoving them and his underwear out of the way and gasping faintly as his cock bobbed free.

Dean’s breath was coming faster and faster as Cas moved closer to his dick, until finally he just moaned, “Cas, _please…”_ and Castiel put his mouth on him. He didn’t fully know what he was doing, but he just went on instinct, trying to guess what pleased Dean by the noises the other boy was making and barely noticing that one of his own hands had slipped into his own jeans, distracted by the barrage of sensation and sound and everything was so new, but it was _Dean_ and he felt remarkably safe despite the sensation of floating out into space. And then he moved his tongue and Dean made this _noise_ , and suddenly his mouth was full of bitter liquid and he swallowed and then a train hit him or no, it was just his own orgasm as he came in his own hand to the sound of Dean’s ragged breathing.

Dean collapsed back on the bed and Cas crawled up next to him, nuzzling into the blonde boy’s shoulder as Dean’s arms curled around him. “I love you,” he said, voice muffled against Dean’s skin.

He felt more than heard Dean’s reply. “Me you too, Cas, me you too.”

 

They fell asleep like that, curled around each other, each knowing he was right where he was meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I love comments, so please give me any and all suggestions/criticism/love! 
> 
> In case I didn't say, the books they read are _Tithe, Valiant,_ and _Ironside_ by Holly Black, who is amazing and you all should go read her books!


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